Christopher's Quest
by Elf Knight
Summary: As a punishment for taking so long with Book IV, Christopher Paolini is sent to the Varden, where he must use his Author Powers to help save the day. But can he? - Post Brisingr
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or Christopher Paolini!

**Author's Note:** Do take note that this fanfic is mainly humour and is set after Brisingr. I haven't read the books in a while so I might be rusty on some parts, so if you could please tell me how I'm doing I would really appreciate it. Also, this is a Book IV style so expect to see things like AxE, MxN, SxT, the Rock of Souls, Vault of Kuthian, EDOG (eventual defeat of Galbatorix), etc. But this isn't your regular Book IV because the Author himself (Christopher Paolini) shows up after Brisingr as the summary states. So without further ado, I present you with the first chapter of my latest fanfic!

**Chapter 1:** Limbo

It was a blistery winter's evening. Christopher Paolini was wrapped in two sweaters, a thick pair of trousers, shoes, a scarf, and mittens. He was sitting on his arm chair in front of his computer screen, staring in the exact same spot as he had been for two or three years.

He was feeling anxious for it was November 11th, the promised release date for the long-awaited Book IV. Fans were raging mad as Random House had revealed to the press that there was an 'unexpected delay' which meant that Book IV would not come out when promised.

Why?

The simple truth was that Christopher had bumped into a massive Writer's Block.

Those things were far worse than the Shades in his story and were the most evil creatures in all of creation. He was stuck at writing the first chapter and was staring like a zombie at the curser which blinked annoyingly in front of the first two words of his story: Chapter One.

Oh he had such epic plans for the Grand Finale, but now they were washed down the drain before he even knew what hit him! Now he was useless, pathetic, and a waste of time. His editors and publisher were getting very frustrated and putting loads of pressure on him to finish the damn book already in their own terms.

They would fire him and show everyone the fraud he was if he couldn't finish the blasted thing, but words failed him. He had come up with multiple beginnings for a Book IV but none of them worked. They all ended dismally after the first few paragraphs or so. Not even his home-made tea could help fix the problem!

So it was that he had visited websites such as and in hopes of getting some ideas for a Book IV. While he had not looked into it before, his publisher had asked him if he was okay with fanfiction. Well, if it made the fans happy and fine with waiting another couple years or so for the next book then he was good with it. Now he almost wished he hadn't let them, since tons of people had written Book IV's and even Book V's. One crazy writer had even written a Book VI!

Of course, that ground to a halt partway and Christopher could only cackle evilly that they shared the same curse as he did. But now his fun was over as he realised he could not use those ideas without the fans realising he copied them. They would then sue him at court for being unoriginal and stealing their ideas. Some were really good though, which was a damn shame. Needless to say, he was surprised and a tad bit scared at how many included what became known as AxE.

In other words, it was a relationship between Eragon and Arya – his hero and Mrs. Tough Girl. He was also cringing in his seat at all the stories out there which had a love affair between Eragon and Saphira. His eyes bulged at the amount of graphic sex between them. It was unthinkable! He had really caused this predicament though, by making only two or three dragons left alive. How could Saphira get a mate if the dragon egg didn't hatch, not to mention it being in Galbatorix's clutches.

Now that he thought about it there were so many inconsistencies with his novels. It just didn't make sense! Why they became Best-Sellers he had no idea. But he tried to comfort himself with that thought, not to mention a movie being made out of them! Well, the movie was also crap and totally chopped up the book but it was a movie and that's saying something! Heaving a sigh, Christopher let his shoulders sag in resignation. He was getting nowhere with this blasted book and needed to take a break, a nice long holiday. But for starters, he decided he would take a nap. He turned off his computer and trudged to his bedroom where he flung himself down on his bed.

_If only someone could help me finish this blasted series!_ He half-thought, half-prayed to whoever would listen.

With that thought in mind, he drifted off into a restless sleep.

X~X~X~X~X

Christopher had no idea how long he slept. It could have been hours, days, or weeks, months even! Whatever the case, he felt dazed and disoriented upon awakening to the sound of a vibrant hum much as he imagined Saphira humming. Naturally, his first thoughts were of shock and surprise.

"Saphira?" He gasped, jolting into a sitting position.

Blood rushed to his cheeks for when he opened his eyes, the azure dragon was nowhere in sight.

_Get a hold of yourself, dim-wit!_ He chided himself harshly. _Dragons do not exist. You invented Saphira after all._

"Oh, you're quite wrong about that!" A voice chuckled dryly.

Christopher yelped, startled, and lurched upwards. His heart pounded in his chest and his eyes darted about swiftly in an attempt to find out who said that. But all Christopher could see was a great black void. He was surrounded entirely by black, and it scared him.

_Am I dead?_ He wondered. _Did that Writer's Block make me go insane and cause me to commit suicide?_

"Wrong again," The voice quipped with an evident smirk.

"Who are you?" Christopher squeaked, feeling suddenly small and unimportant. "Show yourself!"

It was only then that the young writer noticed a fine mist surrounding him. He also realised that his clothes were gone and he was stark naked! His glasses had vanished too and his bed had also disappeared.

"Damn you whoever's out there!" Christopher swore. "You'll pay for this!"

"Hmm, not so sure about that," The voice commented, completely unconcerned. "But you'll pay for this!"

So saying, Christopher heard someone flick his or her fingers and he yelped in surprise as a white robe trimmed in silver appeared on his body. An equally white hood was attached to it which covered his head like some medieval freak. Even more disheartening was the fact that a sword was strapped to his waist fastened onto a leather belt.

A pure white staff similar to that of Gandalf the White appeared at his feet and it radiated power. Eragon shook his shoes. Wait! He was wearing shoes? A glance at his feet informed him that he was wearing knee-high boots made of leather on the outside and soft fur on the inside. What in damnation was going on here? And where were his glasses? 

"I'm afraid you won't be needing them anymore!" The voice said smugly.

Christopher bristled. "Stay out of my head and show yourself! Or are you too cowardly to do so?"

All of a sudden, the eerie silence that had prevailed most of the time was shattered by an ear-piercing, thunderous roar that shook the earth – or whatever the ground Christopher stood on was! Sweat beaded on his forehead and his hands trembled. For that roar was one of a dragon! As if on cue, a gigantic, silver-blue dragon immerged from the darkness making Christopher's skin crawl. Panic flared within him as the dragon glared daggers at him. It was obvious to the young writer that the dragon wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds, but something prevented it.

"Saphira?" Christopher asked stupidly, his voice quivering in awe and fear.

_Yes and no,_ The dragon growled sagely.

"What?" Christopher squeaked. "But that doesn't make sense! If you are Saphira, where's Eragon? After all, I invented you guys so I have a right to see him."

_You have no rights for we were already created!_ The she-dragon roared.

Christopher winced. _Woops, shouldn't have said that!_

"Damn right!" Said that same aggravating voice.

Not knowing how he did so, Christopher spun around to the location of the voice unsheathing his sword in one fluid motion.

_Where the heck did I learn that?_ He wondered in awe.

But all thoughts of swordplay vanished when he saw who had been speaking all the time: It was Brom.

But how could that be possible? Christopher Paolini himself had killed off Brom way back half-way through Book I. Brom had died a hero's death by saving Eragon and Saphira's life...

...Brom was dead!

**~ To Be Continued ~**

**A/N:** Well there you have it! Another wannabe Book IV is in the works. However, this is by no means your regular Book IV so even though I said typical stuff like AxE will take place – prepare to be surprised! If all goes well, the next chapter will be up shortly either today or tomorrow depending on how many reviews I get.

So stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own neither _The Inheritance Cycle_ nor Christopher Paolini! Lucky for him...

**Author's Note:** First off, I apologise for the rather long delay. It's just that I kind of ran into a Writer's Block myself and got hit mercilessly by an extreme bout of lethargy (at least, in matters of writing since it still is the holidays for a couple weeks or so). Ironic, huh? Anyhow, the chapter is here and I thank each and every one of you for commenting. You really made my day and I hope this chapter makes it up to you.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 2:**

"What the hell?" Christopher Paolini squeaked, suddenly overcome by an unnerving fear. "You-your dead!"

"Not in the mind of my fans, I'm not!" Brom retorted with a smug grin, folding his arms across his chest.

"What do you mean?" Chris asked, feeling very confused and disoriented.

His own creation was telling _him_ that he still existed even though he killed him off two and a half books ago? What was all that drama for anyway? Brom's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"In the eyes of my fans on your world of Planet Earth," The aged Dragon Rider explained. "Your fans still adore me and worship my memory, to some extent anyways. It is that memory that preservers my spirit in this place, in this void that you are now a part of. It is what has kept me alive all these years so that I might watch over my son wayward step-brother. Did you know that some fans write stories about me in which I had never ever died and still live with both Eragon and Murtagh forcing me to tell him the truth about my legacy?"

Christopher gulped, suddenly feeling very inadequate. That would have certainly been a cool twist and made things a heck of a lot easier, but he simply _had_ to have the 'old man' character (aka the aged mentor) die to save the life of his student.

Otherwise there would be no sacrifice and all would be for nothing. It would totally take away every single bit of emotion that ever existed in his books, not that there was much anyways. Christopher heaved a sigh, finally coming to terms with himself and his state. He was stuck here in this place and, whether or not it was all just a bad dream, he had to make the best of it.

"Why am I here?" He asked in defeat.

Brom smiled warmly.

"Finally decided to man up, eh?" He asked although it did not sound like a question. "Well, I do not know myself but I have several ideas."

"Yes?" Christopher prompted eagerly, while Brom stroked his beard deep in thought.

At last he came out of his trance-like state and grinned, simply brimming over with mischief. Christopher shuddered.

"How much progress have you made with the long-awaited Book IV to your _Inheritance Cycle?_" Brom inquired.

Christopher's shoulders sagged and he let out a deep sigh.

"Nothing," He muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" Brom asked, tilting his head to the side as if to hear better.

"Nothing," Christopher said through clenched teeth, a little louder this time.

"Excuse me?" Brom asked. "Did you say something? I thought I heard a noise. Perhaps it was a cat."

Christopher growled. "I have not written a single blasted word, Book IV be damned!"

Brom smirked. "That's more like it. You need to speak louder boy if anyone is going to take you at face value."

"Don't call me, _boy_!" Christopher bristled. "That's what you called Eragon, not me. Don't let your 'old man' habits rub off here, okay? I don't know why I'm here nor do I care. I just want to go home and forget that this ever happened."

"Why?" Brom asked, looking genuinely surprised and confused.

Christopher balled his fists in aggravation.

"People will think I'm insane if they find out," Christopher said exasperatedly.

"Ah!" Brom said, nodding sagely. "Just like Eragon thought people would think he was mad to raise a dragon."

"Don't compare me to him!" Christopher all but shouted.

This was too much! His own creations were comparing him to other creations who didn't even exist in the real world? He had no idea how this was happening, but it was and that bothered him to no end. Technically speaking, he should be in control since he invented every character in the whole blasted book.

Well, not every character. Things like elves, dwarves, and dragons were around for a long time and even Dragon Riders existed before the _Inheritance_. Still, this was the work of his own hands and he deserved a little credit. Why didn't Brom just understand that already? But Brom was talking again so Christopher reigned in his frustration and listened.

"I do believe that your being here has something to do with Book IV," Brom mused. "I don't know why but methinks you will be translated to where _Brisingr _left off. Then, you will have to help Eragon and Saphira defeat the Mad King Galbatorix. Should be fairly easy with your Author Powers."

_Author Powers?_ Chris thought in disbelief. _Man,_ this guy was nuts! What happened to the good old Brom he invented anyway?

"What are you talking about?" Christopher drawled, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

He did not enjoy conversing with a raving lunatic.

"Look at your apparel," Brom said, gesturing to the clothes he wore. "And see your staff and sword. How could those just appear without a cause?"

Christopher wrinkled his nose in confusion. "But you did that. You made them appear by a flick of your fingers and said I'll have to pay for them."

Brom frowned. "I did not make them appear. I simply cast the spell for lack of a better term. The magic was always within you. How else do you think you could write three Best-Selling books? That's because you are an Author and Authors generally have what's called Author Powers over their own worlds. They visit them from time to time and that usually helps them overcome dastardly Writer's Blocks and other fiends of the deep. It also helps them to become more mature as a person, having to deal with things like honour and bravery, friendship and betrayal, or whatever it is that they write about. Make sense so far?"

"Somewhat," Christopher admitted reluctantly.

As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of having Author Powers did sound kind of cool. He didn't know what they were but the magic staff meant that his powers were much stronger than magic. His magic couldn't just appear by a few muttered words in some ancient language. They had to be brought forth from his being by a conduit or, in this case, his staff. Coming to think of it, that sounded real awesome.

"So..." Christopher said hesitantly, trying not to sound too intrigued. "If what you say is true, why am I still here in this place?"

"That's what puzzles me," Brom answered. "Realistically speaking, you should be at the Varden right now or wherever Eragon and Saphira are."

"But I thought you knew!" Christopher interjected.

"Pardon?" Brom asked.

"You seem to know all about Eragon and his friends," Chris explained. "Why, you even know about me and my Writer's Block. I mean, I know Dragon Riders are powerful people but wouldn't you say that is a little _too_ powerful? Are you even dead?"

Brom grinned. "That's the paradox, isn't it? You see, due to the memory of me being so strong I am able to survive for quite a while longer than is my time. I have many more fans than Eragon does so, perhaps, that is why I am here. It could also be since I _am_ his father and that I am able to watch over him. Moreover, you made me as his mentor thus my continuation of guarding him from afar. In addition, I believe that once he defeats the Mad King both I and you will go back to our rightful places."

"You mean you will die and I'll go home?" Christopher asked hopefully.

"Don't sound too pleased," Brom chuckled. "You will still have a book or more to write and I have even heard of fans who want a book written of my life or of the Golden Age of the Riders."

Christopher sighed and shook his head. "They wish!"

Then he took a deep breath.

"Look," He said. "I don't know what is going on but at the same time, I don't want to. I think that if I do, all of this will go away and maybe even destroy your world. I just want to go home and if they only way to do that is to save Alagaësia from a tyrant then I will."

"So be it," Brom said with a sigh. "Then there are a few things you should know."

"Yes?" Christopher prompted.

"One is that you will have to show up as a Dragon Rider and for that you will need to borrow my dragon," Brom said in a grouchy voice.

"You would let me do that?" Christopher whispered.

He did not know _half_ of what transpired between a Rider and Dragon. It had always been his dream to know, but he knew the Bond was very sacred. _Hells,_ he had made that up and stressed it hundreds of times.

"For the sake of Alagaësia I would," Brom said stiffly. "But so that Eragon and Saphira do not guess anything, my Saphira will have to get a colour change. I thought of temporarily changing her gender to male but then Eragon's Saphira would get excited."

Christopher chuckled at the mental image and Brom permitted the ghost of a smile.

"Also, you will not tell them that you met me," Brom said firmly.

"Why?" Christopher asked, disappointedly.

"That will lead to all kinds of questions," Brom said. "Questions that you are not meant to answer. All they need to know is that you are a Dragon Rider from the Old World who has been watching over Alagaësia as your duty of being a Guardian of Time dictates. And now you decided that the time is ripe to reveal yourself and your powers for the good of Alagaësia to defeat the Dark King."

"Guardian of Time," Chris repeated with a grin tugging at his lips. "I like that! There's only one problem..."

"Pray tell, what's that?" Brom asked worriedly.

"I don't know how to sword-fight let alone use magic," Chris said, feeling troubled.

"Oh," Brom chuckled. "No need to worry about that, that's why I'm here?"

"Meaning?" Christopher prompted.

"I believe that my presence here is for your benefit," Brom explained. "Keep in mind that this void is timeless. Should you return to your world you will find that not more than five minutes has passed."

"And?" Christopher asked in impatience.

"That means," Brom said sharply. "That not much time will have transpired in Alagaësia also. Therefore, I will be able to train you as a Dragon Rider and in the ways of my world. For as you people say, 'when in Rome'!"

Christopher grinned. "And all roads lead to Rome."

"Indeed," Brom smiled back. "So unless you have any further questions, shall we get started?"

"Let's!" Christopher agreed eagerly.

"Good," Brom said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let the training begin!"

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** Well there you have it! Chapter 2 is ready at last. Now, I have a question for you all – do you want me to write one more chapter in the void while Christopher is being trained? Or should I just do a time skip until when he goes to the Varden? I have some really cool ideas for this, so if all goes well it should be awesome either way. Still, I want to know as the training chapter is not really necessary. It's your choice though, so do leave a review on your thoughts especially on this chapter.

Many thanks in advance!

~ Elf Knight ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle._

**Author's Note: **Sorry guys, but this chapter took a while to write due to it being training and all but I finally thought of some. I don't know how great it'll be but consider it more of a filler chapter. Action should come soon hopefully as well as drama and romance – the works. So read, review, and enjoy. I hope you like it!

**Chapter 3:** Training

Christopher and Brom stood facing each other five feet apart. Brom had chanted some words in what sounded like an older version of the Ancient Language if such a thing was possible. Then Chris stared around him, in awe and wonder, as the black void swirled away in clouds of mist like peels being stripped off an orange.

A white room with no windows or doors surrounded them looking like an empty hospital room or something. It was just large enough for Saphir and them, not that there was anyone else in the room. His mind still reeling from the unexpected use of magic, Chris obeyed distractedly as Brom told him to stand in a certain position five feet apart from him.

Instantly, Brom's face went into an impassive mode and Christopher snapped back to reality becoming very wary of the old man. He remembered from his books that he was an awesome teacher but very harsh and strict. He gave Eragon bruises all over and the young writer shuddered inwardly at the thought.

"So," Brom said respectfully. "What would you like to learn first? How to use magic or how to fight with a sword? You will need both to survive but we have all the time in the world right now, so I can make you a master in each art."

Christopher closed his eyes as he mulled over the question. While there was no light in the room, the white walls pulsed with power and seemed to glow with a force of their own as if they _were_ the light. It gave him a headache not to mention Brom's question. After a short while of contemplation, he made up his mind with a measure of reluctance. He should get to the nitty-gritty stuff first and save the easy part for last.

"Swordplay," He said, opening his eyes. "I wish to learn how to fight with the sword, bow, and spear first. Are those options available?"

Brom thought it over a few minutes and nodded.

"I don't see why not," He shrugged. "If I can make your staff and sword appear, why not a bow and arrow? Eragon was always the archer and since you wrote his character I think you'd have a knack for that."

"A hidden one, perhaps," Christopher said allowing a faint smile. "Shall we begin?"

"Certainly," Brom grinned. "I always like an eager student. Eragon was a little too proud for my liking, keep that in mind and we'll get along just fine."

Brom fell silent for a moment and flicked his fingers while muttering under his breath. There was a sudden flash of light and Christopher felt a tug in his gut. Looking down suspiciously at his body, he was momentarily surprised to see that his white robes were gone only to be replace by a thinner white tunic without any sleeves, ending at his knees. Brom was dressed in similar fashion.

"It is easier to move about like this," Brom explained. "Less hot and sweaty too. Armour can be an awful pain sometimes. But enough of that, let us begin. Swords out!"

Christopher pulled out his sword and was surprised to see that it had transformed into a basic wooden practice sword. Even so, it weighed a ton and felt awkward in his hands. He scowled, but held it at the ready such as he saw Brom doing.

As Brom taught him all the basics of swordplay, Christopher wondered how on earth Eragon could have learnt it as fast as he wrote him in the books. It was just unrealistic and his arms were aching after the first five minutes! What had he gotten himself into?

X~X~X~X~X

The hours passed in a blur of sweat, toil, and pain.

Sword fighting was a lot harder than he ever expected especially since he was a city slicker who sat at a computer desk all the type punching out letters on a keyboard. He wondered how in the world his glasses survived and wished they could stop for a break.

But Brom would bark "Constant Vigilance" (1. See bellow) and force him to continue. When Christopher finally sank to his knees in defeat, sweat rolling off him, Brom gave in just a little only to mutter a rejuvenating spell under his breath. With a flick of the old man's fingers, Christopher felt his skin crawl as all the hunger, weariness, and pain vanished.

He felt like he had slept a week and all his despair was forgotten. Immediately he sprung into action catching Brom off guard with a burst of youthful strength. Of course, Brom got the upper-hand quickly and smirked as Christopher wished he had never surprised his teacher. He learnt a great deal though and the best thing was that time held no meaning here.

He did not need to sleep or eat or even bathe for that matter, although he'd sure as heck like to take a nice cold shower at times. Whenever he'd feel too tired to continue, he'd just croak out 'break' and Brom would cast that spell making him feel alive and refreshed again. He wondered if his tutor used the spell but decided not to ask since in reality he really was dead. It would be just...awkward, for lack of a better term.

And so time sped by as Christopher got used to their training and poured out all of his energy and strength into the lessons. He was so absorbed in his training that in time he even forgot about what was happening at home or the long-awaited Book IV. He couldn't care less right now as all that was on his mind was learning to fight with the sword. In this timeless void, he could learn a great deal – far more than Eragon ever could as he was on the run – and it was also a plus-point that he did not need to worry about his body.

X~X~X~X~X

It was another harsh round of fighting that saw Christopher finally overcome his teacher in a deft faint, pretending to swing his sword one way only to knock him off-balance by a series of blinding flourishes with his sword. Brom's sword spun out of his hands and Christopher's went right under his chin. Brom looked shocked for a moment as Christopher smirked in glee, gloating at his finale success.

He had no idea how long they had been practicing for. It could have been months, or years, or decades even so he was very proud of himself when he _finally_ caught his teacher by surprise as you can imagine. But Brom got the last laugh by suddenly spinning around, kicking Christopher in the chest with his foot flinging him backwards, and knocking his sword out of his fists with a well-aimed punch.

"Damn it!" Christopher exclaimed as he dropped his sword in pain and began hopping about the room, clutching his broken wrist. "What the hell was that for?"

"You got too cocky," Brom laughed, whipping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"I have every bloody right to be cocky, prat," Christopher pouted, feeling most affronted. "I bloody won already and you cheated! What kind of a teacher are you anyway to manhandle your own student?"

_A very good one,_ A deep voice chuckled.

Christopher yelped in surprise only to flush in embarrassment as he saw that it was Brom's dragon – Saphira the First.

"You saw that?" He groaned.

_Aye,_ Saphira said, with a rumbling chuckle. _It was most amusing. Do not fret though, Brom would do that to all rookies he taught in Ellesmera._

"Oh, gee!" Christopher said sarcastically. "I feel so relieve now I could just hug the guy!"

"Okay, fine, I relent," Brom said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps I was a little harsh on you."

"A little?" Christopher asked incredulously. "Are you for real, man?"

"As real as a fictional character would ever be," Brom retorted in good nature.

"Humph," Was all Christopher could say.

An awkward silence settled over the unusual trio. Since both men were weary, Brom motioned for Christopher to sit down as he did the same.

Crossing his legs in lotus style, Brom curled his fingers into a unique fashion and placed his hands, palm upwards, onto his knees. Closing his eyes, held his head high and sat back straight. He took deep even breaths while Christopher watched him suspiciously.

Christopher gasped in surprise as a faint blue glow surrounded Brom glowing brighter all the while. Slowly but surely, Brom arose a good foot and a half in the air even though he had cast no spell of levitation.

"What the heck is going on here?" Christopher whispered warily to Saphira. "Is he weirding out on me? I do not remember writing meditation like _that._"

Saphira just gave Christopher a mysterious draconic smile.

_Watch and learn,_ She replied.

Not having anything better to do and wondering if it would get his mind off his pain, Christopher heaved a sigh and folded his legs uncomfortably beneath the other. It hurt to sit in this strange way and made his back hurt all the more as he struggled to keep it straight and his head tall. A throbbing headache threatened to kill him if he didn't stop this nonsense but he persisted.

The minutes felt like hours but as Christopher closed his eyes and fought to keep his mind blank, he gradually felt calmer than usual. It was a tough thing to do and not every thought vanished, but only the calmer and more peaceful ones remained.

_What the heck am I doing?_ Christopher wondered after a time. _This isn't working at all._

_Wrong,_ Christopher heard a voice say in his mind.

_Who's that?_ He asked.

Oddly enough, he glanced around only within his sub

consciousness and not for real. By now Chris thought he could be prepared for any surprise, but what he saw next stunned him.

A lone woman approached him through an eerie white mist. She was tall and graceful like an ancient elf queen. Stunning golden hair cascaded softly down her back and her pale white skin contrasted sharply with the blackness around him. She wore a sleeveless, light-blue tunic that fell a little past her knees complementing her fine figure.

_Who are you?_ Christopher asked cautiously, sensing an air of power about her.

_I am a friend of Brom's,_ The woman replied telepathically.

Even though he could not see his body due to being in his mind, Christopher felt his eyes widen.

_Are you Saphira the First in human form?_ He half-asked, half-guessed.

The woman arched an eyebrow appraisingly making Christopher feel very inadequate and awkward. After studying him for a moment, she smiled warmly and chuckled.

_No,_ She said. _I am a friend of Brom's but not his dragon. I do not think that dragons can appear in human form. Such a feat would earn the honour of the ages though. Perhaps you can make it happen with your Author Powers._

_I still don't know how that's possible,_ Christopher admitted, feeling frustrated.

_That is why I am here,_ The woman said softly, washing away all annoyance and aggravation from Chris.

_How so?_ He asked, feeling much better than before.

_You have more or less completed your training in swordplay,_ The woman said. _So I have come to teach you how to wield your magic._

_Really?_ Christopher asked, feeling all warm and fuzzy in excitement.

This sounded way too good to be true!

_Aye,_ The woman smiled. _And you will have it easier than most since your Author Powers do not require spells and potions._

_Oh?_ Christopher asked, feeling slightly confused.

Then what was the Ancient Language for?

_You created this world as an Author, Christopher,_ The woman explained gently. _Just as I have been created to show you how to protect it. _

_From myself?_ Christopher added dryly unable to resist.

_Perhaps,_ The woman conceded. _But enough of that now. We have more important things to worry about._

_Too true,_ Christopher sighed. _Too true._

And so began another long stretch of training within Christopher's mind as the mysterious and beautiful woman taught him magic. But throughout it all, Christopher felt a pang of sadness despite the wondrous things he had been learning. For he somehow felt a dreadful sense of foreboding, that once his training was over he would never see the woman again.

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** Dun-dun-dun! Chapter Three is finally posted and ready for reading. So, it was kind of basic but did it meet your expectations? What did you think of this new episode and of my story as a whole? Are there any changes or things you'd like to see Christopher accomplish with his Author Powers? And who is this woman that Chris likes? Will he see her again? More answers and mysteries await you in the next chapter that will be coming shortly, so R&R please...

...And stay tuned for more!

P.S. *Yes, I borrowed the "Constant Vigilence" phrase from Mad-Eye Moddy in the Harry Potter Saga. I don't own that either, just to let you know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own _The Inheritance Cycle._

**Author's Note:** I had some time on my hands due to it being Saturday so I thought to put out a few more chapters while it was still fresh in my mind. Enjoy and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 4:** Translation

A sonic boom rattled Christopher's ears. His head felt like it was on fire and his whole body hurt like hell. An all-too familiar metallic whistling brought him back to the present and he leapt aside twisting his body as he did so to avoid being impaled by a javelin.

Letting his Author Powers take over, he flicked his fingers discreetly while waving his arm to the left. As he did so one hundred diamond daggers materialized out of nowhere and flew through the air in the direction his arm went.

A flare of anger hit him as they transformed into fire arrows before striking his opponent, only to turn around and zoom towards his direction. Concentrating on his magic, he brought his hands up and clapped emanating the sound of thunder. Instantly the fire arrows exploded and began to fall to the earth like a rocket breaking up.

Christopher's hand twirled at the speed of light in a peculiar fashion and a pale silver aura surrounded him, pulsating with sheer energy. Several exploding arrows hit him only to glance off the aura and tumble harmlessly to the ground where they dissolved with a crackling hiss. Christopher grinned smugly even though the aura took quite a few dents in it from the magical Dark Fire that fuelled the arrows.

Panting for breath, he failed to notice the stone wolf that charged at him out of nowhere and barely rolled away in time. The aura vanished with a loud _crack_ as he hit the ground making him wince in pain. The wolf howled in triumph as he sensed its prey weakened and charged again. Groaning as the energy used to make the aura sapped out of him, he rolled onto his knee and made a curved short-sword appear in his hands.

Not knowing that the blade was invisible – for it actually was – the wolf leapt up at Christopher with a snarl even as the young warlock-in-training thrust his weapon upwards. The wolf howled in pain and the sound grated on Chris's enhanced hearing, but it was over soon as he plunged his blade into the stone wolf's heart. Not giving his real opponent a moment to react, he whirled about sending his dagger flying.

With a satisfying thud, it landed right next to his opponent's neck, burying itself into the pillar his opponent hid behind. For a moment, there was an uneasy silence as Christopher's eyes darted about furiously checking for any more assaults. Then the sound of normal clapping reached his ears and he heaved a grateful sigh, allowing a weak grin as his opponent – or rather trainer in magic – immerged from behind the pillar where she had stood.

Shay grinned widely at him while Christopher blushed furiously, ducking his head in acknowledgement and feeling very embarrassed but pleased at his new teacher's praise. Like his training with Brom, Christopher spent a seemingly endless amount of time learning how to use his Author Powers or in other words – magic. The good thing was that he did not need to use spells like Eragon and Arya did in the books. The bad thing was that his adversaries would be a lot tougher to kill due to being on the same level as him.

Since he was about to be sent to Alagaësia, Christopher had learnt from his new teacher that a new race of magic-casters had surfaced from hiding and had sworn allegiance to King Galbatorix. However, they were not under his command and were far more powerful than normal magicians and wizards. They were warlocks like Christopher who did not require the use of spells or potions or the Ancient Language. They also carried with them a couple dozen Spheres.

These Spheres were half the size of a soccer ball on Earth and were dark silver in colour. They were semi-translucent and contained a vast amount of magic much like Eragon's ring from Brom did. The warlocks guarded these orbs with their lives since they could draw massive amounts of energy from them making their small army of warlocks near invincible. The Varden had been hit hard by these devils who cared nothing for peace or freedom.

They were worse than Shades and lived for violence. Much like vampires, they ate magic or rather sucked it out of a magic caster. They had killed many elves in this fashion leaving their bodies broken and defeated. Eragon and Arya had a run-in with the Warlocks and barely escaped with their lives. Eragon had to use all the energy from his ring to fend them off but was horribly wounded and now hiding somewhere in the Spine with Arya and Roran.

The Varden was scattered and divided. The oppressed citizens of the Empire now hated Eragon believing that he had deserted him. Galbatorix imposed a harsher rule than ever before and the Warlocks used their magic to even bend the weather to their rule making things dark and stormy more often than not. Lady Nasuada was hiding with what remained of the elvish army who had escaped to an ancient but ruined stronghold.

Overall, things looked bleak for Alagaësia much more so than Christopher had ever imagined. The scary thing was that he did not ever plan on writing these Warlocks as it would do away with all he had worked on for the Ancient Language and to create a balance in magic and normality. This was what he had been dreading but it still happened. Just as the 'good' Higher Powers had sent him to Alagaësia as a Champion so had the 'evil' Higher Powers sent the Warlocks as their Champion.

If Christopher failed to defeat them and Galbatorix – or help Eragon to do so anyways – then all hope would be lost and he would never ever write Book IV. The laws of nature would unravel possibly destroying all traces of his written trilogy doing only god-knows-what to all the other novels both fiction and non-fiction on the market. It would be utter chaos and his name would be known in realms far and wide as the coward who failed them. Naturally, he could not let that happen.

He could not.

_Of course you won't,_ Shay's voice said soothingly as she strode towards him.

Somehow, a wave of relief washed over him at the sound of her voice. During their time together, he had grown attached to her presence as if she was a second half of him. He did not know if she was real or not but he had grown to like her and wished he could take her with him during his quest to save Alagaësia. But he knew not to set his hopes too high for they would only be crushed.

Feeling uncomfortable around her just then, Christopher looked away, clasping his hands uneasily behind her back.

_What ails you, Christopher?_ Shay asked, obvious concern in her voice. _What troubles you so?_

Christopher hesitated and then replied, _You'd probably kick my butt if I tell you._

_Perhaps,_ Shay said enigmatically. _But then again, what good things are accomplished if not won after a difficult trial beforehand?_

_True,_ Christopher sighed.

Taking a deep breath, he let his shoulders sag and turned reluctantly to face her. As if sensing that this was something serious, Shay folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked him solemnly in the eye.

_Speak, Champion,_ She commanded. _I must know what is on your mind. You will not be able to save the world in a troubled state of being._

_Yeah, I guess so,_ Chris said. _Look, I know this sounds silly but..._

_But?_ Shay prompted, a small smile forming on the corner of her lips as an idea formed in her mind.

Christopher blushed.

_I'm going to miss you like hell when I go and I want to take you with me,_ Christopher blurted out before he could stop himself.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder for Shay suddenly smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Christopher hugged her back awkwardly admiring how the tantalizing mixture of muscle and softness.

_I will always be with you,_ Shay whispered, brushing her fingertips across his neck.

And then she kissed him.

Christopher's eyes bulged in stunned surprise as her lips met his but he reacted feeling like Christmas had come early. His brain melted in his head and sweat beaded on his brow as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the kiss. He could have stood there forever, but Shay finally pulled back her cheeks tinged with pink and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

_Why would I want to leave you after that?_ She smirked, making Christopher blush furiously as she squeezed his bottom.

Christopher stifled a yelp resulting in a tinkle of laughter from her and the young author fell in love with the sound, and with her, wanting to hear it again and again.

_So you'll come with me?_ Christopher asked hopefully, hating himself for ending the moment.

Shay just smiled mysteriously and stepped away from Christopher, making his heart shatter in a thousand pieces as she stepped backwards blowing a kiss to him. Then she vanished into thin air. A tug in his gut awakened him and Christopher's eyes fluttered open only to find himself lying on a rough and itchy cot.

His back hurt like hell and he felt as if he had been sleeping on nails. Groaning, he gulped up deep breaths and rolled over onto his knees. Rubbing his eyes of sleep, he paused and glanced about realising with some fright that he was not in the void-like place he had been anymore. Instead, he was inside a dark and dismal cave.

A drop of water splashed pitifully against a small pool and the smell of roasting deer wafted up his nostrils. His stomach rumbled with hunger forcing him to get a better glimpse of his surroundings. He did so reluctantly, dreading the site that awaited him and his suspicions were confirmed. He was no longer with Brom, Saphira, or Shay.

Instead, he stood in the back of a large cavern closed off to all sunlight and only illuminated by a few flickering torches. A cot lay beside him where his white cloak was folded. His staff and sword lay next to his bed and they glowed faintly. His heart pounding wildly in his chest as dread filled him, he looked about and his throat went dry as he realised that someone was watching him.

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** Cliff-hanger! I feel evil but I do enjoy writing cliffies and perhaps it'll get some more comments. I don't mean to sound rude or demanding, but I really enjoy your guy's comments and feedback so give as much as you can since it's what motivates me to continue.

And stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own neither Christopher Paolini nor the _Inheritance Cycle_.

**Author's Note:** Thanks everyone for the feedback, I really appreciate it. Chapter 5 is here!

**Chapter 5:** Tenga

Christopher let out an inaudible sigh of relief when he saw that the person watching him was just an old man. True there was something eerily familiar about him but try as he might, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Finally, he gave up and collapsed onto his cot with a resigned sigh.

Breathing slowly and deeply, he studied the old man warily knowing he was not quite what he seemed but not too worried. He had, after all, most likely created him as an Author so he was under his control. Then again, if he was captured by one of those Warlocks then who knew what damnation could happen?

The old man was nothing fearsome in particular, really. He was about four and a half feet tall – neither fat nor thin, but rather of a stocky-in-between sort. Thin wisps of white hair crowned his otherwise bare skull and his face was wrinkled with age. Nonetheless, electric blue eyes gazed back at him with an uncanny sense of perception. He studied Christopher with a thin, lipless smile that made his skin crawl.

Who was this weirdo?

As if on cue, he the old man spoke up his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Hallo," He said jovially seemingly without a care in the world. "I am known by many names but you can call me Tenga. What may I know you as?"

_Tenga!_ Chris's mind reeled.

Of course! 

He was the crazy lunatic that Eragon encountered while returning to the Varden. He had big plans for Tenga but couldn't decide whether to have him serve Galbatorix or the Varden or even himself for that matter. He had even invented a new race called the Grey Folk who were Immortals and lived before the Ancient Language was created.

This Tenga was supposed to be the last of their kind and would somehow swear his allegiance to Eragon and the rest of the good guys. But how he had no idea nor did he know what Eragon needed of him, information probably – perhaps there were secret passageways within Uru'Baen and Tenga knew of them. These would be invaluable to Eragon.

On second thoughts since he was the Author couldn't he use his Author Powers to create secret passageways, crypts, and tunnels wherever he pleased? He had asked Shay as much to which his teacher answered 'no' since it would be too great a power causing an unbalance in the laws of nature. The universe would not be able to withstand such a fluke that would violate everything that was anything.

It was true that Christopher had more powers than any magician, sorcerer, or Dragon Rider; but they were different and in a way he was thankful. The temptation was less and besides, it would enable him to better come up with a Book IV since that was the whole reason why he had been sent here to Alagaësia – to overcome his Writer's Block.

"Are you feeling quite all right?" Tenga queried most imperiously. "Because if not I have some Periwinkle Tea that is a great soother for frazzled nerves!"

_Oh, great!_ Chris moaned. _Not another Angela! These two should just become a couple already since they are perfect for each other. _

*grumble, groan, and gripe*

"Pardon me," Tenga said with an infuriating smile, clutching his hand to his ear as if straining to hear. "I didn't quite catch that."

Sucking in a deep breath, Christopher swallowed hard and forced himself to react.

"Hello, Tenga," He said as politely as possible. "My name is Christopher, Christopher Paolini actually but you can call me Chris."

Tenga's smile became almost feral.

"Is that so?" He asked. "Because I could have sworn that was not your True Name. Then again, you silly humans are not given your True Names at birth and are left to find them on your own. Still, I wonder..."

"How can you tell what's a True Name and what isn't?" Christopher asked curiously.

Shay had briefed him on True Names but he tried not to think of her much. It was too painful considering how they last parted.

"It is really quite simple," Tenga said, nodding sagely. "Anyone at all will say only their false name even if they believe it to be their True Name such as you. If they do not know their True Name then they will tell me another name, as a True Name is one's greatest secret. For example, if I knew of your True Name and was not an ally I could possess you and make you my slave. Sound familiar?"

"Murtagh and Thorn," Christopher sighed, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"Aye," Tenga said sadly. "I do not think that they will be too pleased to learn you are the one who put them in their state."

"What do you mean?" Christopher yelped, his eyes wide in astonishment.

Had Tenga found him out? How? But the old man only laughed. Well, to be honest it was more of a cackle.

"You are a god amongst men, lad," Tenga said at last, great tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks. "But a foolish and dim-witted one. You can manipulate Mother Nature herself if you like. It all boils down to imagination."

_Okay,_ Christopher thought ruefully. _This guy is really freaking me out. Why ever did I make him so crazy? Note to Self: Number 1 priority when Chris gets back home – Make Tenga Sane! Very important._

"Now, now," Tenga chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk. "None of that now, I was only having you on."

"Eh?" Chris asked, feeling confused and scratching the back of his hair.

"I was pulling your leg, lad," Tenga said his smirk growing all the wider. "It is a defence I use on strangers to make them think less of me."

"But why would you want to ruin your reputation?" Christopher asked, now feeling completely confused. "Why would you want people to think you are a raving lunatic?"

"Because here they will not shut you up in a nut house," Tenga said, spreading his hands out emphatically. "Here they will simply fear you thinking you are some sort of powerful magician turned mad by dabbling too deep in Black Magic. They will avoid you or try to kill you. It is easy to kill someone shrouded by fear."

_Riiiiiiiiight!_ Chris thought sarcastically, but outward he nodded curtly as if accepting the fact.

"So," He said hastily after a moment of awkward silence. "What is this place? The last I remember was that you lived in a small log cabin by your vegetable garden. I don't ever recall you haunting an underground cavern system. Where are we?"

"Good question," Tenga smiled. "I like a boy who uses his head. To answer the first one, this is not an underground cavern but an ancient system of catacombs dating back to before the Dragon Riders."

Christopher listened with bated breath as Tenga continued, hoping he wasn't pulling his leg again.

"Do not fear," The man in question said, normally this time. "I am not joking this time and I speak the truth. At first, this was simply a labyrinth of underground limestone caves hallowed out by underground rivers and streams. Eventually, animals and the first humans used it as shelter. Then people began using it to horde their treasure. Later on, thieves and brigands would use it to secret their camps and stash away their own hordes.

"At one point, the elves investigated these tunnels and improved the stone work so that it would not collapse upon our heads. However, they did not like the darkness and there are evil creatures of ancient eras long past that lurk in the shadows. They pulled out eventually leading the Dragon Riders to form sanctuaries here. These caves were largely secret as unlikely as it seems and large enough for thousands of dragons.

"Even the Foresworn had a hideout here where they could easily launch an attack on other unsuspecting dragons who thought this was common ground. The labyrinth is vast and wild, very easy to get lost in. You are lucky you have me as a guide otherwise you'd die before you'd ever see a spot of daylight!"

Christopher shuddered at the disturbing thought and Tenga continued.

"Moving on," He said. "I found one entrance to the labyrinth within a secret passageway in that old ruin of the elvish tower Eragon saw. That was why I had built my camp there in a seemingly worthless place but to guard a most sacred relic of times long gone." 

"And that is?" Christopher prompted eagerly.

"Books," Tenga replied unexpectedly with a smirk.

"Books?" Christopher asked incredulously wondering what the hell could be so important as books, in this world at least.

Hardly anyone was literate and Galbatorix had destroyed nearly all of the libraries in the world!

"Tens of thousands of books," Tenga said joyfully.

And before Christopher could quite react, the old man flicked his finger and a hundred small fires in glowing iron cauldrons burst into being. Shocked into action, Christopher whirled around only to freeze in surprise, awe, and wonder as he stared, gobsmacked, at thousands upon thousands of books, scrolls and manuscripts.

They climbed ten feet high in book shelves stretching one hundred feet long and scrolls were piled up five feet high in vast numbers. It was only then that Christopher realised he and Tenga were situated on a relatively tall ridge that overlooked a massive valley down bellow. They were still in a cavern system but numerous fires were scattered throughout the labyrinth of books, scrolls, and manuscripts making the young writer's mind reel with all that could be accomplished by this.

Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks, for he realised that this would not only help him to defeat the Mad King and the Warlocks but it would also help him to finish Book IV and maybe even more. He could write prequels and sequels and a host of encyclopaedias and almanacs. So elated was the poor boy that it was only a matter of seconds before all the glorious information went to his head and he promptly fainted.

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** So there you have it; Chapter 5 is here at last! Like it? Love it? Hate it? Leave a review so that I can make this fanfic better yet!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Christopher Paolini. If I did... *sighs*

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay, but I got bashed up by a nasty Writer's Block and Procrastination. Yeah, I know. Stupid, huh? Anyhow, here is the next chapter ~

~ **Chapter 6:** Battle Plans

"So how will it happen?"

"Huh?" Christopher Paolini asked, blinking in confusion.

When he had woken up ten minutes after fainting out of sheer surprise, joy, and happiness – Christopher and Tenga had gone right to work. Tenga had been exploring the vast library left over by the Dragon Riders for ages so he knew his way around. Still, there were hundreds – if not _thousands_ – of books that he hadn't read yet.

So Chris had started exploring this section of the mammoth library while Tenga searched through the already-known books for anything that might help him write Book IV and other books about the Cycle. At first it was fun, but then the work proved tedious for all the ancient manuscripts were extremely dusty and worn out. They only survived thanks to a set of complex spells in ancient elvish that preceded the Ancient Language.

Needless to say, they were exhausted when they finally called it a night and were back on the ridge Chris woke up on. Now they sat opposite a crackling wood-fire that heated a pot of boiling stew. Of course, Chris was used to better food but it was a staple diet and the young author began to wonder how Tenga had gotten a hold of all those ingredients for there was even venison in the stew. His mind had been wandering when Tenga asked his rather unexpected question.

"How will _what_ happen?" Chris asked in confusion.

Tenga heaved a long-suffering sigh making Christopher bristle.

"How will Galbatorix be slain!" He explained exasperatedly. "How will the Empire fall and a new kingdom rise up? How will the Riders be restored? And how will peace be brought to the land? How will Eragon find true love and how will the elvish population be spared from extinction? How will Murtagh and Thorn be freed from their True Name slavery? How will..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chris exclaimed, holding up his hands for silence. "How do you know all that?"

"How do you think?" Tenga asked with a toothy grin that made Chris shudder.

"I don't know," Chris admitted reluctantly.

"The answer is simple," Tenga grinned. "I am a variable."

"And?" Chris prompted.

"My role has not yet been decided upon so Fate deemed me worthy of knowing all this to help you," Tenga explained gently as if he was saying something obvious to a toddler.

Chris took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Listen," He said, feeling rather annoyed and affronted. "I don't care about 'Fate' or variables, I care about finishing the Cycle and getting back home. Now you can help me do that easily without all the stupid riddles, or you can die a very painful death."

"Sorry," Tenga chuckled smugly. "I am a Variable and as such you cannot kill me until you finish Book IV. And you can't do that unless you return home which is unobtainable without my help."

Christopher just smirked and flicked his fingers, materializing his sword from the Void out of thin air. It appeared in his hands in seconds, and he grasped it savouring the familiar metallic touch. A gasp from Tenga's direction told him the trick worked.

"Impressive," Tenga breathed.

"I try," Christopher said modestly.

"But how?" Tenga asked, sounding clearly flustered.

"Author Powers," Christopher replied. "You of all people should know. I am the Author of _The Inheritance Cycle _and as such control it." 

"But then why?" Tenga demanded.

"Why what?" Chris asked, confused and a tad bit frightened at the swift mood change.

"Why wait around all this time?" Tenga growled. "Why not act here and now so that all this knowledge can be used freely and without fear of demons swooping down on you the moment you touch a book?"

"Because I must finish Book IV," Chris snapped. "I need plans. I need to write epic, Braveheart-style battle scenes. I need Galbatorix to be defeated in such a way so that it won't look like a kid's story. I need strategy. Get what I'm saying?"

"So that's why you're here?" Tenga asked although it sounded like he already knew the answer to that.

"Yes, to make a long story short that is the reason," Chris agreed.

Tenga nodded reluctantly.

"Okay, my bad," He muttered. "Well, at least these books should help. In the mean time, I think a visit to an old friend of mine is in order."

"Who?" Christopher asked curiously.

"Not who _what,_" Tenga corrected.

"How do you mean?" Chris asked.

"I must visit the Oracle Obelisk," Tenga said, then added upon seeing Christopher's confusion. "It is a tall pyramidal tower covered in ancient runes. It possesses the soul of an oracle witch named Shay who worked on the behalf of the Dragon Riders during the Golden Age. But when Galbatorix rose, he killed her as she refused to reveal his future."

"What?" Christopher gasped.

It could not be possible. Not Shay. Not _his _Shay! Then again, Brom and Saphira the First had visited him in the Void and they were dead in the books. Oddly enough, Christopher could not bring himself to cry. These were fictional characters after all. Still...

"What happened to her?" He asked finally, sensing that Shay's story was not over yet.

Tenga's eyes darkened and he answered grimly, "To twist the knife even further, he used Dark Magic to force her soul into the Obelisk. He then cast a series of spells which would force her to answer whatever anyone asked. Shay can speak with anyone she wishes but hardly feels like doing so, not having a body. Over time, I managed to befriend her but the dark magic influencing her soul has not been easy on her. Shay is dying."

Once again, Christopher's heart wrenched but he struggled to subdue his raging hormones. He had been sent here for a purpose and he could not allow himself to get sidetracked by this. All of a sudden, a loud roar shook the earth dislodging some dust and tiny stones from the ceiling.

"What the heck was that?" Chris yelped, bolting upright with all thoughts of remorse forgotten.

A smell of smoke wafted up his nostrils and he glanced down warily. His suspicions were confirmed – during their conversation dinner had been forgotten and was now a heap of smouldering charcoal. Unfortunately for his furious stomach, another loud rumble sounded causing him to nearly lose his balance. Tenga sprang up cursing vehemently, much to Christopher's surprise and cast about as if searching for something.

"Tenga!" Chris yelled as another rumble shook the walls. "What's happening?"

"Orb!" Tenga cried, heedless of a now very frustrated young author. "Orb! Where are you when I need you? Orb!"

A strange wiring noise filled the air and Christopher's eyes flew open in surprise as a small crystal ball surrounded by a golden glow peeked into the room, floating in the air. As bizarre as it sounded, Christopher felt reluctance and annoyance emanate from the Orb as if it was _alive_! At last, the orb floated through the air towards Tenga.

"Get over here, dratted sphere!" Tenga cursed, plucking up the orb in his hands.

A startled squeak sounded from the Orb and immediately Chris knew this was no normal device.

"Show me who is trying to enter the labyrinth!" Tenga commanded in a harsh voice, making Chris sigh.

Tenga was such a drama queen.

"No, it can't be!" Tenga raged, catching Christopher's attention and making him very worried. "They can't be here already! The wards... They..."

A low growl emanated from the Orb and Tenga glared at it.

"Yes, yes, I know," He hissed. "I forgot to replenish the wards thanks to our _friend_ but you could have warned me!"

A strange hissing sound came from the Orb.

"Okay, you made your point," Tenga sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I apologise for treating you like normal magic. Happy now?"

The Orb made some strange clicking sound that Christopher could only identify as reluctantly appeased, and the look of relief on Tenga's face confirmed this.

"Yes, yes, of course," Tenga rambled. "You will get five more Willow-the-wisps than usual. Anything else, your grace?"

Christopher could not resist a wry grin at the evident sarcasm, for it was now obvious – if it hadn't been already – that the Orb was very much alive and that the old man Tenga was actually communicating it.

_More like arguing with it,_ Christopher added, making a mental note to remember this for later.

But another roar like an earthquake reverberated through the cavern system toppling several books from the shelves.

"My library!" Tenga shrieked, making Christopher grimace. "Okay, enough, Orb. I have things to do, places to be, yada, yada, yada! Savvy? Thank you!"

With that, he chucked the Orb into the air as if it was just a piece of trash. A myriad of negative vibes emitted from the Orb which were directed to Tenga, and Chris knew they had to be curse words in Orb-ish.

"News?" Chris asked, not wanting to wind up with an actual argument.

"Bad news," Tenga sighed, looking a million years older. "Eragon, Saphira the Second, and Arya are trying to get in here."

"How is that bad?" Christopher asked, now thoroughly bewildered.

"Because the Warlocks are after them!" Tenga snarled.

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** So the plot thickens! Once again I am awfully sorry for the delay and very thankful for your reviews. I realise I might have taken CP's relationship with Shay a little too fast but then again, in the Void there is no time so a thousand years could pass while it feels like five minutes. CP looks as old as he does when he entered the Void though, so no worries about that. Anyhow, the next chapter should come soon accompanied by some action! Do tell what you think by means of a comment or PM, as your reviews are the lifeblood of this story. And, as always...

...Stay tuned!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Neither Christopher Paolini nor the _Inheritance Cycle_ belong to me.

**Author's Note:** First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you for your awesome reviews! They mean a lot to me and this story would be worse off without it. I really do appreciate it. So now without any further ado I present you an all-new chapter of my fanfic...

...**Previously on Christopher's Quest:**

_"News?" Chris asked, not wanting to wind up with an actual argument._

_"Bad news," Tenga sighed, looking a million years older. "Eragon, Saphira the Second, and Arya are trying to get in here."_

_"How is that bad?" Christopher asked, now thoroughly bewildered._

_"Because the Warlocks are after them!" Tenga snarled._

**Now Showing – Chapter 7:** The Battle Begins

"The Warlocks?" Christopher yelped. "How do you know? Did the Orb..."

"Yes," Tenga fumed. "There are many other spheres like the Orb outside the labyrinth. They guard the entrance and are enchanted to show me whoever it is that is trying to get inside."

"But why would Eragon, Saphira, and Arya come _here_ of all places?" Christopher asked, confused.

"Because it was an ancient hideout of the Dragon Riders, fool!" Tenga berated. "They obviously found out about it and came here either looking for knowledge or an escape from those cursed Warlocks. Now you better get your arse up there and help them fend off those demons while I replenish the wards. Without them, the Warlocks have free access to these tunnels unless Eragon, Saphira, and Arya get here first. Even then, they have a good chance at getting inside. Now_ move!_"

Christopher started at the harsh command, and bristled slightly at how Tenga was treating his creator. For Christopher was, after all, the Author of this world. It was strange, for he didn't believe in gods or wasn't sure anyways. But now, here, in a sense he was a god.

_What is the world coming to?_ He sighed, rubbing his temples to stave off a headache.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and carried out the method of searching for other minds. He had 'invented' this after all, and Shay had taught it to him herself. At first the only signs of life were those of tiny critters like rats, mice, and cockroaches since they were underground. But then gradually they became larger and larger like birds and rabbits. Finally, he found the mind he was searching for only to smash into a massive barrier.

Cursing, he recoiled and tried again gently probing the well-guarded mind. He allowed a wry smile, upon seeing the source of power that the mind drew from to put up such strong mind shields – the smiling face of Arya wearing a soft green dress, standing amongst the trees of Du Weldenvarden. Needless to say, this mind belonged to Eragon Shadeslayer who Christopher needed to get in contact with if his impromptu plan would work.

At last the barriers granted him access cautiously and Christopher marvelled at the vastness of Eragon's mind. Heaving a sigh, he diverted his attention to the task at hand.

_Who are you? _Eragon asked. _Are you friend or foe and what business do you have in those halls?_

_Um, right,_ Chris gulped. How best to explain this? _You can call me Christopher or Chris for short, and I am a friend. More I cannot say right now as I believe you have some nasty Warlocks on your trail._

_How do you know about them?_ Eragon asked suspiciously.

_I have my ways,_ Christopher replied smugly, very pleased to befuddle his own invented character for once. _Listen, we have no time now and must act while we have the element of surprise. I know I am a complete stranger to you but I swear in the Ancient Language that I am an ally and only want your safety. In fact, I can get you into these halls soon enough. You can interrogate me all you want then._

_Very well,_ Eragon replied warily.

Christopher had said all of that in the Ancient Language since, again, he had invented it and Brom taught it to him along with Saphira in between warfare classes. Hoping his luck would last, he quickly recounted his plan to a very disbelieving Dragon Rider.

_Wait!_ Eragon interjected. _You have a DRAGON?_

_Yes,_ Christopher smirked. _And she should show up sometime soon. Went off hunting in these halls. Poor thing can only catch rats and mice. Not too much prey around here, you see._

_Are you serious?_ Eragon demanded. _How can you say you have a dragon when they were all whipped out a hundred years ago?_

_There's no time to explain!_ Christopher snapped, as another boom echoed throughout the cavern system. _The Warlocks are closing in on you and I am your only hope. If you die then there will be no one to rid Alagaësia of its tyranny, do you understand?_

_Fine,_ Eragon grumbled. _But we shall have a long talk about this later._

_Agreed,_ Christopher sighed. _Right, then. Get into position and inform your companion, Arya, about our plan. Be ready at a moment's notice._

_How do you know about her? _Eragon panicked.

Christopher just smirked gleefully as he withdrew from the astonished Dragon Rider's mind, revelling in his leadership abilities. But another boom brought him back to reality and he quickly sobered. Taking another deep breath, he closed his eyes again and searched the cavern system for Saphira the First.

He had not seen her when he came round, nor had Tenga spoken of her arrival. Surely that would be one of the first things he'd talk about, then again one could never make rhyme or reason from the old man.

_Saphira?_ Christopher asked, feeling a twinge of fear at no response.

Just when he was about to give up, he felt her familiar presence in his head.

_Yes?_ She asked simply, as if totally unconcerned about their present danger.

_Where the devil are you?_ Christopher snapped, feeling quite stressed out over the whole incident.

_Not too nice to curse your dragon, Author,_ Saphira chided, amusement evident in her voice.

Christopher scowled.

_Do you know of my plan?_ He asked, knowing from experience that the she-dragon was far more knowledgeable than she let on.

_Of course,_ Saphira replied nonchalantly.

Christopher took a deep breath to calm himself. Why did his characters have to be so arrogant? Oh, well. They had more important things to attend to!

_Where are you? _Christopher asked.

_I am on my way to meet you, _Saphira the First answered. _But be prepared as I am much larger than before and dark silver in colour. It was necessary to change my appearance to fool Eragon and Saphira the Second. _

_Indeed,_ Christopher agreed dryly. _Okay, do you know of a way out of this place then?_

_Aye,_ Saphira the First answered confidently. _Tenga informed me._

_What?_ Christopher exclaimed. _How could he have when he never spoke of you before?_

_That was because you never asked, _Saphira chuckled.

Christopher just sighed. _To hell with it all! Duty comes first, which is why I am stuck in this hellhole after all. _

Opening his eyes, he glimpsed a flash of silver in the darkness and gasped as Saphira reared in the air spreading her wings and arching them before landing.

Letting loose a torrent of flames above him, so that he wouldn't catch fire but for a dramatic effect, she landed on her hind legs kneeling down for him to climb upon her. Christopher marvelled at her knew look and noticed that she was already saddled.

_You might want to change your own appearance,_ Saphira suggested, eyeing Christopher in amusement.

_Yeah, yeah, whatever!_ Christopher retorted. _I'll do you next so be ready, and follow my lead._

_I shall, _Saphira said, and that settled it.

Taking one last looks at the shook-up library, Christopher felt a rush of excitement send chills down his spine as he used his Author Powers to cast the temporary spell, and the first step of their plan of attack.

Grinning like a fool, he clambered onto Saphira and held on for dear life as she took off into the large cavern flying through the various tunnels and towards their destiny.

X~X~X~X~X~X

Power.

Pleasure.

Pain.

Those were the three laws that any Warlock had to follow, regardless of his intent. Otherwise, they were banished from the society. The Chief Warlock himself knew this best.

He wore an almost feral grin and folded his arms proudly across his chest as he took in the scene before him. They had finally chased the Dragon, Rider, and their elf friend to a dead end.

They had arrived at some random mountain in the Spine where a smooth stone door was cut into the mountainside. It was gigantic but looked like a wall. It could not be opened no matter how hard that stupid she-dragon pushed against it.

Finally, the dragon gave up and a long silence followed. Due to his enhanced eyesight, the Chief Warlock could tell that the Dragon Rider was communicating with someone – most likely his elf friend.

Being adept magicians themselves, the elves were a thorn in the Warlocks' sides for months until the Warlock Society attacked Du Weldenvarden whilst the elves attacked the City of Beletona. Naturally, this caused an outrage amongst the elves sowing seeds of chaos and division amongst the ranks. The war against the Empire was quickly forgotten as the Warlocks ploughed their way through Alagaësia leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.

They were the most powerful beings in the world, even more so than that son of a bitch who 'ruled' them – Galbatorix. He was an arrogant fool who believed that he had all the power of the world in the palm of his hands.

But he was wrong.

The Warlocks did, nay. The _Chief_ Warlock did and now he was on the verge of destroying the only hope a broken land had for freedom – Eragon Shadeslayer. Feeling powerful beyond measure, the Chief Warlock basked in his sure triumph as looks of surprise and then hope flitted across the Dragon Rider's face.

Finally, the conversation ended and the Rider took on his normal face. The Chief Warlock barked out orders to his troops and they took up positions, readying themselves for battle.

The Dragon Rider was whispering to the elf friend who looked surprised then impassive and nodded her agreement. The elf surprised the Rider by squeezing his hand gently with a look of happiness. The Chief Warlock smirked.

_Ah, young love!_ He thought gleefully.

It would be so sweet to shatter it. He now knew who to target first – that elf wench. Once he killed her, the Rider would be destroyed, utterly destroyed. The battle would be over sooner than he thought.

But just as he was about to unleash a massive fireball upon the elf, the Dragon Rider – upon his dragon – approached him. The Chief Warlock paused, frowning in contemplation. What was he doing?

"Chief Warlock!" He said in a calm loud voice, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword "My name is Eragon Shadeslayer and I challenge you to a duel."

"No!" A new voice boomed. "_I _am Eragon Shadeslayer. And _I _challenge you to a duel!"

The Chief Warlock's gaze flung to the right in surprise and his face paled. The voice, he realised, sounded surprisingly like the Dragon Rider's and he stared in shock and horror to see that the newcomer was right. Whether or not he was the same person, the newcomer road an azure she-dragon and was a splitting image of Eragon Shadeslayer.

What in damnation was going on here?

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** Dun-dun-dun! And so it begins. Now, I would have written the battle in this chapter but I thought it was a cool cliff-hanger, and a decent place to end it anyways. So, what do you think? Is the twist at the end too dorky? Or is it okay? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Leave a comment and let me know of your opinion on this story, so that I can make it better yet!

~ Elf Knight ~


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